


Escaping Wonderland

by Fallen_Angel_Meg



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood, Fluff, Freedom, Hallucinations, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Wonderland, a little bit?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2016-01-30
Packaged: 2018-05-17 02:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5851507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallen_Angel_Meg/pseuds/Fallen_Angel_Meg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Team Free Will finds themselves trapped in some sort of Wonderland-dreamworld where they experience some strange and disturbing things and reality isn't quite as clear anymore.<br/><br/><i> Takes place before 11x09, O Brother, Where Art Thou? </i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Escaping Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the SPN Writing Challenge [January 2016]  
> Theme: Abstract Nouns  
> Prompt: Freedom

Dean’s eyes flutter open only to be assaulted by harsh light. He squints against the brightness and feels something soft and damp against his cheek. What the hell?  
  
He sits up, lifting a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding light and scans his surroundings.  
  
He’s in the middle of a meadow filled with bright green grass, almost too vibrant for it to be natural. There’s a variety of flowers too; roses and lilies and tulips and more, all with disturbingly animated colors.  
  
Dean gets to his feet and slowly turns to take in the strange world he’s found himself in. The meadow is enclosed in a dark forest with trees that match the grass and flowers; absolutely strange. They have dark blue, almost black, bark with branches that twist and turn in ways that are not natural, filled with deep burgundy leaves.  
  
Even more strange than the trees are the mushrooms. They’re huge, easily twice Sam’s height with wide caps dotted in colorful patterns. Shit, _Sam!_  
  
“Sammy!” he calls out, hand instinctually ghosting over the knife tucked in his belt loop.  
  
“Dean?” a confused voice sounds behind him. He whips around to see his brother groggily sitting up from his place at the base of a mushroom in a patch of daisies.  
  
Dean rushes over to him, eyes darting around suspiciously. “Sam, are you okay?” he asks as he kneels down and clutches Sam’s shoulder when he looks like he might fall back over.  
  
He blinks a few times and looks at Dean. “Yeah, I think so.”  
  
Dean nods and carefully helps Sam to his feet, whose eyes wander past him.  
  
“Do you have any idea where we are?” Dean asks, following his brother’s gaze to the brightly colored clearing.  
  
Sam shrugs. “Not sure. But it has to have something to do with that witch.”  
  
Dean scoffs as he remembers. “Right. That fucking witch must’ve pulled some hoodoo crap on us and poofed us off to Wonderland.”  
  
Sam cracks a smile. “I guess we really were on the right track.”  
  
“Ya think, Alice?” Dean exclaims sarcastically and Sam rolls his eyes in response. “You think she sent the other vics to the same place?” he asks more seriously, recalling those strange coma patients that were able to talk and seemed to hear those around them, but somehow trapped in a twilight zone. Unable to escape, to wake up.  
  
Sam walks further into the meadow, taking in every little detail. “Well, none of them mentioned falling down the rabbit hole.”  
  
Dean glances around then realizes there’s still one member of their party missing. “Do you think she got Cas too?” He doesn’t wait for an answer before making his way around the clearing, hoping to see an angel in a trench coat laying somewhere amongst the flowers.  
  
His heart beat picks up when he combs through the grass but it’s vacant of any Cas. “I don’t see him, you?” he calls to Sam, who’s investigating the dark edges that lead into the woods.  
  
“No sign of him,” Sam calls back.  
  
Dean frowns, pulling his knife from his belt as he makes his way to Sam. “We have to find him. He’s gotta be here. If she got you, it means she got him too.”  
  
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Sam says, untucking a gun from the back of his jeans. “We should stay close. Who knows what’s lurking around here.” Dean nods and sets off into the woods, determination driving him forward.  
  


  


* * *

  
It feels like they spend close to an hour of trudging through the dark trees when they finally find Castiel crouched down at the edge of a stream.  
  
“Cas?” Dean calls apprehensively.  
  
Things in this forest haven’t exactly been sane. He’s seen and heard things that he’s fairly certain aren’t real. No doubt this witch is messing with their heads. So he isn’t entirely sure whether he should trust that this is actually Cas.  
  
“Dean,” Cas’ gravelly voice greets solemnly as he rises form his crouched position and Dean knows it’s him. This is really Cas.  
  
“We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” Dean says with an odd mixture of happiness, relief and scolding as he saunters up to him with Sam trailing behind.  
  
“Yeah man, what’re you doing?” Sam asks, eyebrows furrowed.  
  
Castiel frowns, eyes darkening. “I-I couldn’t move.”  
  
Dean and Sam exchange a confused look. “What do you mean you couldn’t move?” Dean asks, glancing back at him.  
  
Castiel lowers his eyes, twiddling his fingers nervously. Dean gets an uneasy feeling in his stomach at the sight. Cas rarely gets nervous so this can’t be good. “Cas, what happened?” he asks again.  
  
“I saw things… I heard things-terrible things,” Castiel says in a low voice.  
  
Dean presses his lips into a hard line because he knows what Cas is talking about. He’s seen some strange things already in this forest. Shadows that weren’t theirs following them and the occasional distant whisperings in his ear but he can never understand what the voices are saying. Even more disturbing though is that Dean could’ve sworn he saw Sam’s eyes turn black for a moment but Sam would blink and they would be normal again. He thought maybe it was the trick of the light.  
  
“What kinds of things?” Sam asks gently.  
  
Castiel swallows. “All the things I’ve done. The people I hurt. My hands- they were so bloody,” Cas whispers, staring down at his hands as if they were still covered in the red stuff.  
  
Dean hates the look on the angel’s face. He hates when Cas looks like that and all he wants to do is cover those hands with his own and hold them, soothe away the visions. But he doesn’t.  
  
“This witch must be playing around with our heads,” Dean says, tearing his eyes away from Castiel to look at Sam.  
  
Sam nods slowly, eyes guarded. “She’s making us see things. Targeting our personal nightmares.”  
  
Dean scrunches his eyebrows together at his words. “What have you seen?” he asks, because now it’s no question something funny is going on.  
  
His jaw clenches, eyes flitting around. “I’ve, um, been seeing Lucifer.” Reflexively, Dean looks around but he knows it’s futile. He won’t see him.  
  
“I was wondering why you seemed so calm. You couldn’t- you can’t see him, Dean,” Sam says and flinches as if something- or someone- just shouted in his ear.  
  
“Dean, have you seen anything?” Castiel asks carefully.  
  
Compared to what the other two have been through, Dean considers himself lucky. He shrugs in response. “Nothing I can’t handle.”  
  
“Well, maybe my grace can help,” Cas says, voice sounding somewhat distant.  
  
A small thumping fills his ears and he looks around for the source. Sam and Castiel give him a curious look which tells him that this is his own hallucination. The pounding quickens and Dean realizes it’s his heartbeat. It gets louder and louder with each pump and a high pitched ringing fills his ears.  
  
He clamps his hands over the sides of his head, barely noticing that the knife that’s still clutched in his hand cuts at his cheek. It feels like someone is slicing into his brain with a chainsaw. The pain is excruciating. He falls to his knees and squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
Then the screams start. Familiar screams. All crying out in agony and pain. All of them he knows too well. He hears Bobby, he hears Charlie, his father, himself, but maybe he’s just actually screaming.  
  
Two screams rise above them all; Sam and Cas. Dean’s eyes fly open but all he sees is darkness. “No! Sam! Cas!” he yells. He flinches back against the blossoming pain in his head, falling to the ground in a crumpled ball.  
  
“It’s not real, it’s not real. You’re fine. They’re fine,” he whispers breathlessly to himself over and over, although the screams convince him otherwise.  
  
He jumps when he feels hands grab him and slashes out with his knife at the darkness.  
  
“Whoa! Dean, it’s me!” Sam says quickly and the darkness melts away, revealing the same scene as before, only now Sam and Cas are kneeled next to him. The screams and the pounding fade away, although his head feels woozy from the trip and his heart is still beating wildly.  
  
“Sorry Sammy,” he pants.  
  
“Dean, are you okay?” Cas asks, brilliant blue eyes staring down at him filled with fear and concern. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that they were another manifestation of this wonderland, similar to the vibrant meadow. Unnatural.  
  
Dean nods slowly, sitting himself up despite protests from his brother. “That witch slipped us some hardcore drugs,” he murmurs in a sad attempt to lighten the mood. Sam presses his lips together, clearly not amused. “So got any theories?” he asks.  
  
“Well, we should start off by deciding if we are in a physical place or just a mental state,” Sam says.  
  
Dean scoffs. “Are you saying this could be a real place? This looks like a knock off of Tim Burton’s movie at best.”  
  
Sam shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe it could be some obscene part of Purgatory. I mean, we’re in a forest with strange things happening to us. Could it really be that far off?”  
  
Dean shakes his head because he knows Purgatory. He searched far and wide for Cas when they were there and he would’ve come across this. “I don’t think so.”  
  
“If this was a dream, I doubt I would have my powers,” Cas suggests, eyes flickering from Sam to Dean.  
  
Dean gently touches his cheek where it’s stinging and pulls his hand back to see the tips of his fingers stained with blood. He looks back to Cas. “Okay, let’s see if your mojo still works.”  
  
Cas gingerly presses two fingers against the center of Dean’s forehead and pulls away, looking disappointed.  
  
“Am I pretty again?” Dean smirks even though he knows it didn’t work.  
  
“That gives us our answer,” Sam sighs. They all sit in silence as they contemplate what to do.  
  
Dean claps his hands together when a thought comes to him. “Okay, I got something.”  
  
“Let’s hear it,” Sam says.  
  
“Remember years ago- that guy who took the African dream root to walk in people’s dreams? It made them see their worst nightmares?”  
  
Sam nods slowly as it comes back to him. “Are you saying the witch used the dream root on us? We didn’t have any contact.”  
  
“But maybe it’s the same idea,” Cas suggests.  
  
Dean nods. “Exactly. Maybe the witch is in here with us, walking around like that guy and has us all in the same dream world. Killing three birds with one stone,” Dean explains.  
  
“Which means we might be able to escape if we wake up! We have to _wake up!_ ” Sam exclaims suddenly, clutching Dean’s arm. Dean gives him a questioningly look. Where did the sudden urgency come from?  
  
“I don’t think it’ll be that easy, Sam.”  
  
Cas nods in agreement. “We might have to kill the witch to be free of the spell. Waking up won’t be enough. She has us trapped here.”  
  
“But where would she be?” Dean wonders out loud.  
  
“There’s gotta be some sort of center to the forest or a landmark where she’s hiding,” Sam says to no one in particular as he releases Dean’s arm.  
  
“Well, there’s this river,” Cas says, glancing to the unusually dark blue water flowing next to them. “But this can’t be it because she’s not here.”  
  
Dean glances at Sam, who is already giving him a look and Dean knows they’re thinking the same thing.  
  
“The meadow,” they say in unison and Dean grins.  
  
“The meadow?” Castiel questions, squinting his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, it’s some weird place we woke up in. It’s bright and colorful, unlike this place,” Sam explains, gesturing to the dark forest around them. It looks like it’s midnight with the moon is casting dark blue shadows over everything as opposed to the sunny clearing filled with hundreds of colors. Sam stands, staring at nothing in particular, but Dean knows it’s probably a vision of Lucifer.  
  
“It’s our best shot,” Dean says, getting to his feet and then helps Cas up. He gently touches Sam’s shoulder, who jumps in response. “C’mon Sam.”  
  
They walk quietly for the most part, save for the mutterings that Dean occasionally hears from the other two and he knows they’re talking to whatever is haunting them. Each time, Dean clutches his knife tighter, wishing he could see the figments and save Sam and Cas from further suffering.  
  
They all pause when they see the brightly lit meadow peeking through the trees and mushrooms. It’s almost like it’s glowing.  
  
“Let’s gank this bitch,” Dean mutters and starts forward but stops dead in his tracks when he hears Sam scream out.  
  
He looks over his shoulder to see his brother sprawled out on the ground as if something was on top of him and pinning him in place.  
  
“Sam!” he yells, leaping forward and slashing his knife through the air, hoping it makes contact with something.  
  
He feels himself thrown away from Sam, back slamming against a tree. He sees Cas get flung away as well when he tries to lunge forward with his angel blade in hand.  
  
Dean watches in desperation, squirming and trying to wiggle free of the invisible force that holds him to the tree. “Sammy!” he screams, watching as a red spot stains his shirt over the left side of his chest.  
  
Dean squeezes his eyes tight, hoping that this is just some horrible hallucination and everything will be okay when he opens his eyes again. He takes a few ragged breaths before cracking them open.  
  
He was right. Sam is gone, but so is Cas and he’s staring into the eyes of Charlie.  
  
“Ch-Charlie?” he stammers.  
  
“Hello Dean.” She quirks a smile at him, but it’s not the same smile he remembers Charlie having. Her eyes are darkened and full of malice, lips twisted into that smirk. This smile is one that belongs to Dark Charlie. But this isn’t her. She looks like normal Charlie.  
  
Dean’s eyes trail down to the large blade gripped in her pale hand. “What’re you doing?” Dean grunts, still struggling against the force that holds him to the tree. He heaves for air when it tightens on him, making it feel like his ribcage might collapse and the air sucked out of his lungs.  
  
“I’d thought this was the perfect opportunity to pay you a visit,” she says, spinning the blade in her hand the way he saw Dark Charlie do once before.  
  
“You’re not real,” Dean mutters, mostly to try and will himself to snap out of this nightmare.  
  
Charlie’s eyes snap up to meet his in a hard glare. “After all you’ve done to me, you have the nerve to say I’m not real?”  
  
Dean takes a shaky breath. “No, you’re not. The real Charlie wouldn’t want revenge.”  
  
Dean gasps in pain as the pressure against his body increases when Charlie tenses up. “I don’t want revenge!”  
  
He keeps his gaze locked on her. “Then what do you want?” he chokes out.  
  
Charlie relaxes, lifting the knife up to run a finger along the edge. “Justice.”  
  
Dean closes his eyes again, hoping the same trick will work. “This isn’t real, this isn’t real, this isn’t real,” he whispers to himself repeatedly. He has to convince himself that everything is okay and Charlie will disappear like all the other visions.  
  
He hears her laugh and he knows it isn’t working. “I don’t think Dean Winchester is qualified to say what’s real and what’s not. You’re the poster child for fantasy being reality.”  
  
He reopens his eyes and frowns. She has a point. “Touché.” But maybe he can still get through to this fake Charlie. “Look Charlie, I’m sorry. For everything I dragged you into, for everything that happened,” he tells her, and he isn’t lying. He is so incredibly sorry and he wishes the real Charlie were here in front of him to hear to his words.  
  
She marches up to him, slashing out the blade and cutting him across his cheek exactly where his other cut was.  
  
“I trusted you, Dean! I trusted you and you got me killed!” she cries.  
  
“I know, I know. I-I’m sorry-“ he gets cut off when she drags the knife down the side of his neck, hissing at the sharp, stinging pain.  
  
“Sorry doesn’t cut it, Dean,” she says in a low voice. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be alive and happy.”  
  
Dean tries thrashing away from her but she holds him steady. He squeezes his eyes shut.  
  
“Just let it be over,” he begs quietly, jaw clenched in pain.  
  
He feels a hand on his shoulder and he’s sure Charlie is bracing herself for the final blow.  
  
“Dean!” It’s not Charlie’s voice though. He opens his eyes to see Castiel holding him against the tree. “Dean, can you hear me?” he asks cautiously.  
  
Dean blinks a few times, looking around but there’s no Charlie in sight. “Y-yeah. I’m back, I guess.”  
  
Castiel lets out a relieved sigh but doesn’t drop his hand from Dean’s shoulder. “You were screaming and trying to cut yourself with the knife.”  
  
Dean’s hand flies to the side of his neck but there isn’t any blood this time. The hallucinations are getting more vivid.  
  
His eyes dart around but there’s no Sam in sight. “Where’s Sam?” he asks, feeling panic rise in his chest.  
  
Castiel looks away, dropping his hand from his shoulder. “Cas, what happened to Sam?” he repeats, staring intently at the angel.  
  
“He’s gone. I… I don’t know where she took him.”  
  
Dean runs a hand through his hair as his mind processes this information. “We gotta kill her. She knows we’re after her so she’s separating us,” he says, trying to remain calm.  
  
“She took his gun too. The one with the witch killing bullets,” Castiel tells him.  
  
Dean shrugs and starts for the meadow. “Maybe we just gotta stun her long enough to break free of her control.”  
  
They make their way to the meadow more cautiously this time with every little movement putting Dean on edge. But when they arrive on the outskirts of the brightly colored clearing, it’s empty. No one.  
  
Frustration rises up in Dean and he marches to the center of the meadow, throwing his hands up. “C’mon! We’re here! Come get us!” He waits for a response, but there’s nothing.  
  
Dean jumps when Cas’ voice is suddenly next to him. “I don’t think she’s here.”  
  
“She has to be,” he says, looking at the angel only to gasp and stumble away from him. There are two trails of blood rolling down his cheeks from his eyes. “Cas?”  
  
Castiel flinches at the sound Dean’s voice, backing away from him. “Dean?” he asks with a tinge of fear.  
  
Dean furrows his brow. Was he hallucinating or was Cas? Are they both seeing things? His head spins as he tries to sort out reality. “Cas, what’s wrong?”  
  
Castiel yelps in pain and falls backwards into the electric green grass and brightly colored flowers, scrambling away from him. “Please Dean, don’t do this,” he begs, his breathing getting rapid as fear takes over.  
  
Dean takes another cautious step towards the cowering angel and a mangled cry escapes his throat. His head is thrown backwards, hands pinned against the ground and Dean sees dark bruises bloom under his skin.  
  
“No!” Dean yells, springing forward and hovering over Castiel to protect him from whatever was doing this. He looks down at Cas, mind racing with how to stop his pain. More bloody tears seep from his eyes, the scarlet red contrasting sickeningly with the blue as he stares fearfully up at Dean.  
  
Dean grasps Castiel’s shoulder with one hand, the other tugging on his tie. He needs to get through to him, to snap him out of this nightmare.  
  
“Cas, it’s me. Whatever you’re seeing- it’s not real! Please, it’s not real,” he tells him, hoping that his words break through the delusion.  
  
Castiel grabs a hold of Dean’s wrist, the one clutching his tie, as if he was holding onto life itself “Dean, _please_ ,” he whimpers in a quivering voice.  
  
“You can do this Cas, you can beat this,” Dean says, squeezing his shoulder.  
  
Castiel starts choking and gasping for air and Dean immediately pulls his hands away despite the fact that he’s not the one causing this. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Castiel whispers as he heaves for air, a trickle of blood falling from his mouth.  
  
Dean’s heart is thumping wildly and he frantically searches for anything that might be able to help his angel. He hears the shallow breathing stop and he looks back down to meet Cas’ blue eyes staring lifelessly up at him.  
  
“No…” he whispers. “Dammit Cas, wake up!” he yells, giving him a soft shake and watching for any signs of movement but there’s nothing. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real.  
  
His fingers brush against Castiel’s skin and he flinches away at the touch. He’s ice cold.  
  
Dean scrambles off him, clutching the knife tight. “Come on!” he screams skyward. “You’ve taken my brother, you’ve kill Cas, let’s end this!” He feels his eyes burn as tears blur his vision. He just wants it all to be over.  
  
“But this is part of the fun,” a low voice chuckles behind him. He spins around and is taken aback at the sight. He’s looking at himself.  
  
“You have a twisted sense of fun,” he growls, readying the knife for attack.  
  
The fake Dean smiles slyly. “You mean _you_ have a twisted sense of fun.”  
  
Dean furrows his brow in confusion and it causes the other Dean to laugh. “C’mon man. I am you. You did this,” he gestures to the lifeless angel.  
  
“We are not the same,” Dean says firmly. “I was trying to save him. I was trying to protect Sammy,” he adds weakly.  
  
The other Dean shrugs and starts casually closing the space between them. “If it makes you feel better to see it that way. But you know I’m right. I mean- Dean, just look at your hands.”  
  
Dean swallows hesitantly but slowly looks down. He feels the breath slip out of him when he sees his hands covered in blood, notably his knuckles, and the knife is a bloodied angel blade. Cas’ angel blade. “No, I-I didn’t do that. I didn’t hurt him,” he murmurs in disbelief.  
  
The other Dean sighs, “Just look at Castiel.”  
  
Dean slowly looks back to Cas and sure enough, his white shirt is stained and ripped from the stab wound in his chest, his face bruised and cut up too. But when did any of this happen? Did he really do that to him?  
  
“You are so far gone in your delusions, Dean. The amount of blood on your hands? The visions you’ve been seeing? Why do you think you saw them?” The other Dean pauses but Dean doesn’t answer him, eyes flickering between his bloody hands and Cas. “Because you did this to them! You killed Charlie, you’re the reason why Sammy’s lost, and you’re the reason why Cas is dead. He was doomed the moment he pulled you out of hell. You killed him,” the other Dean shouts, voicing booming throughout the meadow.  
  
Dean snaps his head back up. “I would never kill Cas!”  
  
The other Dean chuckles. “And why’s that? Because you have a petty crush on him? Please, like that counts for anything. The way I see it, he’s just your expendable, little tool. ”  
  
“No! Cas is family!” Dean fires back, a lump forming in his throat. His eyes flicker back to Castiel’s body, bloody and out of place in the cartoon colored flowers. “I need him,” he murmurs as tears threaten to spill over again and an ache forms in his chest that he can’t explain.  
  
“You’re pathetic, you know that? Such a disappointment,” the other Dean says tauntingly, snapping him back to the situation at hand and he turns back to see his mirror image is only an arm’s length away now.  
  
Dean pushes down his emotions and smiles because two can play at this game. ”You’re not real. None of this is real. This is just the witch controlling my mind, trying to break me. But I won’t let it work.”  
  
The other Dean laughs. “Who isn’t, Dean? You’re just real estate. Michael, Amara? The angels? The demons? They own your ass.”  
  
Dean clenches his jaw. “I’m nobody’s bitch.”  
  
The other Dean is still grinning wide. “Isn’t that the joke of the century. It’s amusing that you still believe you have an ounce of free will left inside you.”  
  
Dean doesn’t respond, only holding the other Dean’s taunting, green eyed stare.  
  
The other Dean’s smile falls, eyes darkening as he continues in a low, dangerous voice. “You talk of no destiny and free will, but yet here you are, trapped in your own mind. You’re the face of freedom but in reality, you’re just a sad, pathetic puppet.”  
  
“We’ll see about that,” Dean growls and as he raises the angel blade to stab his mirror image, the other Dean lands a punch against his temple, knocking him sideways and to the ground, a ringing filling his ears.  
  
He heaves for breath when the other Dean presses a foot against his wind pipe. “It’s better this way, Dean. This is how you can truly be free.”  
  
“You can go to hell,” he chokes out as he stabs the angel blade through the other Dean’s shin, who hisses in pain and stumbles away from him. He jumps to his feet and drives the blade through the fake Dean’s heart.  
  
The image’s eyes are wide in shock, clutching at the blade buried in his chest. Dean pushes it in deeper and backs away while he watches his mirrored-self fall into the flowers and cough up blood. The image flickers and everything goes dark. The bright meadow gone.  
  
He feels like he’s suffocating and he gasps for air.  
  
“Dean!” A voice yells beside him and his eyes fly open but he can’t move.  
  
He looks around wildly, still hungrily taking in oxygen. He’s in the bunker’s library. But is this real? “Dean, Dean it’s okay,” the voice soothes, now closer to his ear. He turns his head to see Sam at his side, eyes wide with concern, but also relieved.  
  
He takes several deep breaths to calm himself, his heart feeling like it might beat out of his chest. “S-Sammy?” he asks uncertainly.  
  
“Dean, you’re back!” Sam says with a wide smile.  
  
He tries to sit himself up but he still can’t move. He lifts his head to see his arms and legs are chained to the table. “Sorry, we had to do it. You were getting out of hand,” Sam explains as he starts releasing Dean’s limbs.  
  
“Sam… what happened?” he asks slowly once he’s free, rubbing at his wrists. He has no idea what’s real and what’s not anymore. Hell, this could all be another hallucination.  
  
“That witch. She got to you,” Sam calls over his shoulder as he disappears into the kitchen.  
  
Dean looks around but there’s no sign of Cas, which makes nervous flutters rise in his stomach. Was all of that real? What if Cas really is dead?  
  
His hand flies up to his cheek but there’s no cut. In fact, he’s perfectly fine besides the soreness in his wrists and ankles, which must be from struggling against his restraints.  
  
Sam reappears a minute later with a glass of water and a sad looking sandwich. “Here, you need this.”  
  
Dean takes it with a small smirk. “Don’t you have anything stronger?”  
  
Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, you need _water_. You’ve been out for three days.”  
  
Dean nearly chokes. “Three days?” Sam nods. Dean furrows his brow and chugs the rest of the water, realizing how parched he really is, even though some whiskey sounds wonderful right now.  
  
“So tell me what happened. I’m… I’m not sure I know what’s real and what’s not,” Dean says with a frown as he takes a bite of the sandwich.  
  
Sam’s eyes flicker with sadness and Dean suspects Sam has some insight to what he experienced in that hellish wonderland.  
  
“Well, we were investigating the case about the coma patients that were stuck in some sort of twilight state of mind. They were talking and could kinda hear us, but not actually awake.”  
  
Dean nods slowly as he eats but doesn’t interrupt and Sam continues. “We traced it back to a witch. You left to talk to the family of the newest vic. She must’ve intercepted you along the way because you weren’t picking up your phone. Cas and I found you in the trunk of the Impala in some alley.”  
  
Dean cringes. “She stuffed me in the back of Baby?”  
  
Sam nods, looking somewhat amused. “We brought you back here but still had no idea where the witch was. A couple hours ago, Cas found a lead and, now that you’re awake, I’m assuming she’s been taken care of.”  
  
“So it was only me in there, huh?”  
  
Sam nods. “We tried to let you know we were here with you, we tried to get you out, to wake you up but nothing worked. Even when Cas tried some of his mojo on you, it seemed to make things worse.”  
  
Dean winces at the memory. At least that part makes sense now. In the wonderland, Cas mentioned something about using his grace to free them, his voice off and then it was nothing but pain. “Yeah, I remember that,” he says and Sam smirks.  
  
“Sorry.”  
  
Dean shrugs with a small smile. “Thanks anyway.” His smile falls as he thinks back over the events.  
  
Dean looks away from his brother. “Sam… did you hear everything?”  
  
“Yes, for the most part,” he answers quietly. “Although, it was a little hard to keep track of what was going on. You had your silent moments though,” he adds.  
  
Dean sets the sandwich down, suddenly not hungry anymore, and rubs a hand down his face. Great.  
  
“Dean, I’m so sorry- what you had to go through. It didn’t sound good,” Sam says sadly.  
  
Dean shakes his head. “No, it’s fine. That was her game. She targeted my mind, making my own nightmares come true and reliving old ones.” He thinks this over and now it makes sense why he saw the things he saw. That nightmare realm was nothing but flashing red signs to make Dean see everything that he locks away. His failures, his fears, his feelings.  
  
Hell, no wonder the place looked the way it did. It was so similar to Purgatory. It was really just a bunch of memories smashed together and loaded with all those conflicting emotions, from finding Cas by that stream to the moment where the Mark overtook him and he almost killed him. But in the dream, he actually did…  
  
“Uh, hey Sam? Did you hear the part about Cas?” he asks slowly, hoping that maybe that was one of the times he was keeping silent.  
  
The look on Sam’s face says otherwise and Dean doesn’t need to hear the answer. He feels his cheeks heat up and he looks away. “Did he?”  
  
“Yeah, he did,” Sam tells him gently.  
  
Dean groans. “Look, I… I don’t know what it meant.”  
  
Sam lays his hand comfortingly on his shoulder. “It’s okay Dean. You don’t have to explain yourself.” Dean doesn’t respond and Sam’s hand slides off. “You should get some rest.”  
  
Dean agrees and drags himself to his room, flopping down on the bed with a sigh. He tries to get some sleep but every time he closes his eyes, vivid images of that wonderland flash through his mind and he gives up.  
  
Fifteen minutes later he hears footsteps echoing down the hall followed by Cas peeking his head in the doorway.  
  
“Welcome back, Dean,” he says with a small smile. Dean breathes out in relief at the sight of the angel and he sits up in the bed.  
  
“Yeah, crawled back out of the rabbit hole,” he chuckles.  
  
Cas hesitantly walks further into the room and Dean shifts his legs to allow him space to sit.  
  
“So you took care of that witch, huh?” he asks as Castiel sits on the edge of the bed.  
  
Cas frowns and shakes his head. “She got away. Used some sort of warding spell so I couldn’t locate her.”  
  
“What?” Dean asks in disbelief. “But if she’s still alive, how am I…?”  
  
Cas shrugs. “You must’ve done it.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Broke free of her control,” Castiel says.  
  
Dean shakes his head. “No way. She had me pretty far under.”  
  
Castiel’s eyes, which look just as vibrantly blue now as they did in the dreamland, flicker to Dean. “Somehow you freed yourself. Believe me, we know how tight she had you imprisoned. We tried everything. But you broke free, Dean.”  
  
Dean blinks a few times as he processes this. He freed himself? “Wow.”  
  
Castiel lets out a light laugh. “You underestimate your strength.”  
  
He smirks at this, but it fades as a thought comes to him. “Hey Cas, you heard what happened, right? With you? And… what I said?”  
  
The angel hesitates before answering. “Yes.”  
  
Dean sighs. “I don’t know where that came from, honestly.”  
  
“It’s okay, Dean. I understand,” Castiel says in a strained voice. “We can pretend it never happened.”  
  
“No!” Dean’s voice is surprisingly loud and it makes both of them jump. “I mean, I don’t know what to think. But I do know that you’re really important to me. You’re family.”  
  
Castiel nods slowly. “Yes, family.”  
  
Dean let’s out a frustrated sigh because words aren’t helping. What he’s about to say next feels so vulnerable, but the last thing he wants is Cas feeling like all he is to him is a tool. “I need you, Cas. More than you know.”  
  
He pauses but Cas doesn’t say anything. It’s not like these words are new. He’s said them to Cas before. But it doesn’t take away from their meaning because they’re still true. He really does need Cas.  
  
“I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you. Especially when I had the mark. I… I almost killed you,” Dean murmurs, voice breaking at the end. He stares down at his hands, expecting them to turn bloody any moment.  
  
“You had no control over yourself. The important thing is that you fought it,” Cas says after a moment.  
  
Dean shakes his head because he shouldn’t get Cas’ forgiveness so easily. “No, I hurt you, Cas. I don’t deserve…” he trails off, not even sure what he means to say anymore.  
  
He feels Castiel’s hand on his shoulder and sees a peek of blue out of the corner of his eye and his meets the angel’s soft gaze. “You did the best you could. No matter what happens, you always fight through it. And that’s more than anyone could ask for.” He hesitates before adding, “You know I would do anything for you, Dean.”  
  
Dean swallows as small flutters tickle his stomach. He’s not sure what any of this means. Cas has told him this before, but the words still send a shiver down his back.  
  
Normally around this time, Dean would change the subject, end the sappy moment, but coming from that hell of a dreamland and being confined in his nightmarish mind, he doesn’t want to do any of that. He just wants to feel. He’s tired of mentally chaining himself up.  
  
His eyes flicker to Castiel’s lips and leans in hesitantly, brushing his lips softly against the angel’s. He’s half expecting Cas to pull away and do that squinty head tilt thing he does, maybe even get mad, but he doesn’t. He feels Cas press his lips into Dean’s, solidifying the kiss. The gentleness behind it makes Dean’s breathing falter. Rarely has someone touched him with such tenderness. He feels the urge to deepen the kiss, fingers aching to pull him closer but he pulls away instead.  
  
“Thank you, Cas,” he whispers, staring into the angel’s eyes.  
  
He knows he has deeper feelings for the angel than just a familial bond, but he can’t exactly sort through those now. Not with Amara looming over them and Sam receiving weird visions from who knows what. There’s still a long road ahead of them and no doubt it’s gonna be hell, but at least he did this much. It’s the least he can do and he’s going to continue to make it up to Cas. He has to.  
  
Castiel smiles, giving his shoulder a soft, comforting squeeze. “You need to rest.”  
  
He nods, feeling disappointed when Cas rises from the bed and starts walking towards the doorway.  
  
“Wait- Cas?” he finds himself saying.  
  
Castiel pauses, looking over his shoulder. “Yes Dean?”  
  
“Can you stay?” the words barely make it beyond his lips. He can’t stand the idea of Cas leaving again.  
  
Cas smiles faintly and nods once. “Of course.”  
  
Dean lies back as Cas settles next to him, pulling the blanket over Dean before grabbing a book off the nightstand and starts reading. Just his presence alone puts him at ease.  
  
He closes his eyes, thankful when no visions flash behind his eyelids. He sighs in relief, feeling like a weight has been lifted from his chest. He’s finally put it out there after holding it in for so long and Cas didn’t reject him. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it’s the best he can do right now.  
  
Perhaps it wasn’t the witch holding him captive in his mind. Maybe she pushed him down the rabbit hole, but it was him the whole time locking himself away.  
  
But he fought it. And maybe if he can overcome that, he can beat Amara.  
  
He exhales, a tiny flicker of hope sparking in his mind. This must be what it feels like to release the chains. It’s the same feeling he got when he turned down Michael, when he didn’t plunge that angel blade into Cas’ chest, when he killed Death instead of Sam.  
  
He doesn’t know what’ll happen, but if there’s one thing that’s for certain, this is what free will feels like. And he’ll be damned if it gets taken away from him again.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, sorry this one got a bit dark there o.o But thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it :)  
> [My tumblr](http://blissfulcastiel.tumblr.com)


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